


Tension Doesn't Even Cover It

by Nickidemus



Category: Predators (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 03:14:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nickidemus/pseuds/Nickidemus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabelle and Royce try to release tension during an impossible situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tension Doesn't Even Cover It

They’d managed a trap involving one of the “dog” carcasses. Royce had come up with the idea of putting a heat source beneath it and mutilating it so that it would be unrecognizable to the hunters, namely by cutting off its tusked head. Then they dug a shallow pit and put a low flame beneath it. Not only would it lure any of their adversaries into range of their traps and weapons, but it was cooking the animal should they choose to eat it. Isabelle wasn’t convinced it would taste like anything remotely good, but Royce was more optimistic.

To which she noted, “of all the things to be optimistic about, alien hound meat.” She shook her head.

“I’ve eaten a lot more questionable meat,” he told her. “In a lot dirtier places.”

“You’re walking into that,” she chuckled. “Right into it. I may be a girl, but I know how to make a dick joke. I’m giving you fair warning before you dig yourself in any deeper.”

Royce bit back a smile. “You insinuating something?”

“Just wondering how far you can stretch the terms ‘meat’ and ‘dirty’,” she laughed, keeping her voice low and watching the trees.

“I could show you some dirty meat,” he challenged.

“Oh, that’s enticing,” she snorted. “Keep your filthy meat to yourself.”

But of course he didn’t. They soon found themselves rutting like animals, Isabelle on all fours as Royce strained and pumped against her backside. They were huffing and snarling and thoroughly enjoying themselves when they heard a rustle just below their own noise. Royce clamped a hand over Isabelle’s mouth, listening. She could feel him wilting inside her, a disappointment as being so stifled by his hand forcibly holding in her noise only excited her more.

Royce sat back, keeping her flush with his chest, one arm around her waist and the other still covering her mouth. From the corner of her eye, she saw him nod toward her sniper rifle. She nodded an affirmative and pulled it to her by the strap, then leveled it, feeling his hand slide from her mouth to her neck. She was trembling and not from fear. She’d never been more aroused than she was now. Nude in the jungle, a half-hard cock inside her, her gun at the ready.

She wasn’t entirely sure now that they hadn’t heard the natural sounds of the jungle settling, but neither of them could brush such things off so idly and take chances. So she stayed where she was with her gun ready and ground her backside into him. She heard him let out the barest of groans, his mouth pressing hard into the back of her shoulder.

She was ready, and she was good. Maybe not good enough to pull off a decent shot while riding reverse cowgirl, but damn if she wasn’t willing to try it. Her hips moved, her upper body staying as still as possible, scanning the foliage with her gunsight. She felt Royce smooth his hand from her waist to her mound, seeking out her stiff button and rubbing it. She gasped and scanned the tops of the trees, backing herself relentlessly over his cock.

She was reaching that topmost region, that place where ecstasy came. Her finger was squeezing the trigger, her legs spreading, braced at the knee, and then her walls gave a furious clench around him. Her body was awash and then full when he spilled inside her. She loosened a shaking hand from the trigger, gripping the trigger guard as she panted and calmed.

“You’re going to get us killed,” Royce growled, cradling her back against him.

“You’ll die smiling,” she said, smiling herself.


End file.
